


life's alright in devil town

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: Kane and Feels (Podcast)
Genre: Aftermath of a Case, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Life Partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 06:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: Just another night for Kane and Feels, paranormal investigators.





	life's alright in devil town

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to the cowards discord for reigniting my love for k&f! 
> 
> title from devil town by cavetown.

Kane awoke on the ground. It was cold stone, swept clean and scribbled over with chalk-- at least, the piece he could see less than an inch from his nose was. He was cold, as cold as the stone he was laying on, and if his head didn’t hurt as much as it did he might assume he was dead. 

Then he remembered _ why _ he was so cold, and that it _ was, _ in fact, the cold of the grave, and groaned. _ Bloody _ghost cases. 

A hand touched his shoulder, so warm he could feel it even through his coat. 

“Kane?” 

Another hand came to rest on his back, again with the temperature of rocks warmed by summer sunshine. He vaguely tried to lift his head, blinking frost off his eyelashes, and at the movement he was half lifted, propped up from the cold church floor. 

“Luce?” 

“Yep, ‘m here,” he mumbled. He opened his eyes, squinting up at the sunlight filtering down from on high, coloured blue and crimson through the stained glass. Brutus was holding him. The blood streaked across his face was cut through with tear tracks.

“I’m, I-- we’ve _ got _to stop taking ghost cases--” Kane managed, patting Brutus’s arm weakly, going for reassuring and overstepping directing into concerning, as was his tendency. 

“Yeah,” Feels breathed, the edge of tears still unmistakably lingering in his voice. He squeezed Kane’s shoulder, then let him go gently. He appreciated that. Kane was aware that Feels’ instinct was to comfort people by holding them close, but he knew that Kane needed to ground himself with extra input sometimes. Kane hadn’t ever really had to explain it to him, he’d just always… stepped back. He never went far, but it was what Kane needed to take a deep, shaky breath and push himself up off the icy floor. 

He brushed the worst of the frost off his coat. “I take it you caught a little of that, then?” he asked.

Feels rubbed his face on his sleeve. “Mhm. Just the edge, I think, but I just… I don’t understand how you do that, Kane.” 

“Well, the patterns of the chalk combined with the location is crucial,” Kane began, before catching Feels’s eye. “Fine. I don’t. You know I don’t. You _ know _ this is why I hate ghost cases, the emotional bleed is off the charts and I’ve always been particularly susceptible to that kind of thing, and it’s not like the restless dead generally have especially _ good _emotions to share, and… oh dear, I think I’m going to--” He swayed unsteadily on his feet. 

Feels put a hand on his elbow, apparently changed his mind about the amount of support Kane needed, and put his arm around his waist. “Steady there, dude--” 

“I’m fine--” Kane protested at the same moment, and they shared a look which was only broken by a sudden clatter echoing across the rows of pews. 

“You punched the weird demon thingy, I presume?” Kane said, glancing around carefully. 

“‘Course,” Feels said. “You dealt with the ghost, obviously?” 

_“Ob_viously.” 

“Then what…?” 

“Either a priest or another ghost and frankly I don’t have the energy to deal with either right now,” Kane said. “We’ve solved the case. If the clients have any further complaints, they know where to find us. I want something to_ eat.” _

The church door creaked behind them as they left. The graveyard was starkly shadowed, the orange of the streetlamps getting lost in the overgrown grass. The wrought iron fence was grimy, ivy twisting over and through it. But it felt peaceful now, in a way it hadn’t when they’d arrived. No one remembered Lilianne Lewis, buried alive in an unmarked grave, but her fear had screamed out for far too long to go unnoticed by the Other Side. She wasn’t to blame, though. That was always the problem with ghost cases, they were never the ones to blame. 

The owners of the land were going to level the plot. Build flats. There wasn’t any reason they couldn’t, not really, Lilanne had moved on now, and it wasn’t like the other occupants were going to complain, but… 

“Kane,” Feels said, a little exasperated. 

“Yes?” 

“That’s the fourth time I’ve said your name.” 

“Yes, well, I’m a little distracted, as it happens,” Kane said, pulling his coat tighter. The three am chill was only growing more bitter as October proceeded. 

“We did what we could,” Feels said. “One hundred and eighty years too late, really, but--” 

“Thank you, Brutus, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“...Look.” 

For a moment, neither of them spoke and it felt like the whole world had gone silent, hypnotised by the passing city lights. They were in step with each other, their footsteps a steady beat on the grey pavement, familiar and soothing. The street was empty, the sound of distant traffic a resonant hum Kane didn’t hear anymore unless he listened for it. He looked up, the sky a dull, city orange, low and heavy and stretching on for eternity. 

They’d done this walk before, the two of them, at this time, under this sky. They’d do it again, probably a thousand times. The feeling of past and future flowing around them was grounding solid and secure in a way that Kane couldn’t even depend on his own heartbeat to be. A fixed point, backwards and forwards: two partners, invisible stars, and an even set of footfalls upon tarmac. 

“Here?” Feels said, not breaking the spell, just altering it. The takeaway he’d stopped in front of seemed unnaturally bright, enough to make Kane blink. His breath billowed as he breathed. 

“Yeah,” he said. Feels held the door for him. 

It was so startlingly warm inside that Feels’ glasses steamed up. The staff looked tired and bored, taking the order with a silent nod. The clock on the wall ticked. Kane suddenly wanted nothing more than to just be home, and to leave the memories of grave-chill and fear out here, in the dark city. 

The rest of the walk home felt different now. The takeaway was warm through the cardboard container in his hands, and his arm brushed against Feels’ sometimes as the pavement narrowed. Feels took the boxes when they came to their front door, and Kane struggled with numb fingers against a lock that refused to cooperate. 

“It’s frozen,” Kane said, stepping back._ “Dammit.” _

“Here, lemme--” Feels shuffled the boxes back into Kane’s arms, and took the key. He put his shoulder against the door, pushed, and the lock clicked open. “Gotta have a special touch.” 

“A _ special touch? _ To open the _ front door?” _

Feels shrugged. “Natural talent.” 

Kane unceremoniously dumped the takeaway boxes on Feels. 

As always, they ended up on the sofa. It was big, made of old, battered leather, the kind that was always icy against your skin when you first sat down, and potentially had all kind of warding symbols carved into the frame under the cushioning-- Kane refused to confirm or deny. Their wet coats were piled up vaguely near the radiator, a problem placed firmly in the hands of tomorrow morning. It was nice to think there’d be tomorrow morning, even if it held wet coats and a depressing phone call to a landowner. It was nice to think it would also hold leftover takeaway, and sleeping in, and Feels. Kane stretched out his legs, patted the Cat sitting on Feels’ lap, and closed his eyes.   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr as drowninginstarlights! comments and kudos always appreciated :D


End file.
